I’m a misfit,
I’m socially awkward,
Do you know how I can tell?
It’s not the facepaint,
Nor the inability to smile normally,
It’s a certain intangible strain,
A subtle yet leaden weight,
Upon my soul,
A sense of monachopsis,
The burden of not belonging,
I’m in a person suit,
The public are not my tribe,
I lumber through hostile streets,
As if waistdeep through syrup,
Incomparably out of place,
A slovenly ghoul,
A shade of grey,
Passing through hued crowds,
I long to return home,
Domestic safety,
A raft away from the societal sharks,
I can be fluidly myself,
A rainbow within,
Dancing with my thoughts,
Please don’t make me go outside,
I don’t belong there.
WorldofHarley 
Beautiful piece of writing
Thank you so much my friend.
The Oldschool Harlequin
Wow! I’m not sure what the word means but I love the poem; I tend towards texts that deal with dissociation: the weirdness takes us to wild places
Thank you kindly! Weirdness is a way of life my friend. Monachopsis is a word for the “subtle yet persistent feeling of being out of place”.
The Oldschool Harlequin
in a review of ‘Geek Love’, the reviewer describes it as a celebration of the weird, the misfit, the freak and that the book insists that the best parts of a person are those that distinguish him or her from everyone else
Oh I see. I’d be totally inclined to agree with deduction.
The Oldschool Harlequin